


Dancing in the Dark

by xenowhore



Series: Jaks [2]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Pole Dancing, Shy!Jace, Smug!Raks, blindfolding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5022130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenowhore/pseuds/xenowhore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Raks introduced Jace to an entirely new style of dance, one that captivated him from the very beginning and made him eager to learn more. Raks only told him that he’d learned it from history books, throwing words like ‘middle eastern’ and ‘bedlah’ around, and never spoke more about it. Watching Raks was like having a glimpse into the past, a show from the old days when everyone had one. Jace had never seen television, of course, but he imagined that watching TV was a lot like watching Raks, only better. Like magic."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blatterburystreet](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=blatterburystreet).



> This is for Sara. Thank you so much for everything and I hope I did Raks justice. I love you! <3

Jace swore quietly but fiercely under his breath as he lost his balance for the third time that evening. With cat like reflexes he caught the pole in the middle of the stage and, bouncing forward on one foot, righted himself quickly. His palms glistened with sweat and he smeared them angrily across his pants. Growling, he pushed an errant lock of hair out of his eyes.

Tonight wasn’t going well.

The Polecat was empty and quiet and hummed with stillness. It was a rare thing to find the club all to himself; after hours usually saw them all huddled around the bar, laughing raucously amid smoke with Rotgut fumes trailing on the ends of their breath. Nux was often the first to leave, slipping back quietly into Slit’s bunk in an effort not to wake him. Mack lingered the longest, his feet propped up on the table, arms behind his head, rehashing the perfection of his routine much to the groans of the others. It grated on his nerves and he often found himself tapping a leg impatiently, but Jace would indulge them all for as long as it took. Getting The Polecat to himself to practice without the critical eyes of his peers was a luxury that didn’t often come his way.

Although...

He’d had better nights.

Tonight was all about solitude. It was about being enveloped in silence, listening only to the sound of his breathing as he concentrated on his latest number. It was centering himself amid the bowls of fire as they cast harsh shadows on the stone, finding his rhythm, clearing his mind. Forgetting.

But that was just it.

There was no forgetting Raks Sharki.

Jace ran his hand slowly down the pole and looked down at his feet. If he was going to master this new routine, he had to push all thoughts of Raks out of his mind. He blew a breath out his nose and lifted his chin, closing his eyes. _You can do this, just focus._ Stretch, bend, twist. Raise your hands, proper placement, deep breath. He wouldn’t think about how Raks always smelled like the air on top of Citadel, or the way he raised just one slender brow when he was teasing. How Jace’s nose fit perfectly in the hollow between his collar bones. No, he wouldn’t think about how his skin was soft as a pup’s but hard like steel beneath.

Steel where it counted.

Jace bit his bottom lip and groaned. “Fuck.” he swore and bent his forehead to the pole, squeezing his eyes shut. It was cool where he rested against it. This wasn’t going to happen, not tonight. He might as well give up and return to the bunks.

“Having trouble?”

Jace’s eyes flew open and he spun. Raks stood in the center of the room, hands on his hips, posture relaxed. He was wearing his harem pants and his cowl was pulled up around his head, casting his face in shadow.

“Raks!” Jace put a hand to his chest and closed his eyes, swallowed. His heart hammered like one of Coma’s drums.

“That’s my name.” Jace couldn’t see but he could _hear _the smirk. _Smeg.___

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” he hissed when he’d regained his composure. “you can’t sneak up on me like that.”

Raks laughed and Jace dismayed at it’s effect on him. Why did his voice have to be so deep? So melodic? Why did the sound have to shoot right through Jace like a well aimed crossbolt from a Polecat and directly into his pants?

“Not my fault you were so... _distracted.” _Raks said, chuckling.__

Jace wrinkled his nose and turned his head, crossing his arms. “You’re such a shit.” he sniffed.

“Oh, don’t be like that. I was only teasing.” his voice was a gentle rumble as warmth returned to it. Jace never took the teasing to heart; Raks never meant a word of it. But if he knew he could get Raks in a sympathetic mood by milking his false hurt, he’d do it.

After all, Jace hadn’t gotten as far as he had in life by not being cunning.

“You’re not supposed to be here, anyway.” Jace gripped the pole with one hand and started a slow walk around it, keeping his eye on Raks the entire time.

Raks followed his eyes with his own. “Wasn’t aware you had dibs on the place.” he said, amused.

They hadn’t seen one another in days and Jace was positively out of his skin to be touched. The smell of him still clung to his skin and Jace wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had refused to wash off the remnants of their tryst. He watched as Raks relaxed and unfolded his arms, stepping closer to the stage. He was now standing near the row of rickety chairs and overturned drums of guzzoline that served as seats. Jace paused in his circling, looked down. Their eyes met. Teal and hazel.

Fuck the routine, fuck the banter. What he wanted was for Raks to throw his cowl back, push the seats out of the way and climb the stage, swift and decisive. Instead, Jace jerked his chin at him.

“Now that you’re here, you wanna make yourself useful?”

Raks laughed again, the moment of lust gone. Jace’s heart ached at the beauty of his smile, the way one side of his mouth always turned up more than the other. “You hate it when I critique you.” he said.

_Well, you’re not wrong._

Jace sighed, defeated. “I can’t get this routine down.” his voice was uncharacteristically bitter.

Raks noticed and quirked an eyebrow. “Unusual for you. You’re the best The Polecat’s got.”

A tiny smile. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“No,” Jace gripped the pole and showed his back to Raks, “Nux is. Everyone knows Nux is.”

It was silent for a moment and then the stage creaked and protested under Raks’ weight. Jace heard him take a few steps and then he was behind him, his body like a wall of heat at his back. He held his breath.

“And you know that’s bullshit.” Raks said quietly. His mouth was right at Jace’s ear, his breath ghosting over the shell of it. A wave of goosebumps broke out over Jace’s skin and he jerked his shoulder up to his ear, ticklish.

“I do?” Jace was smiling, ducking.

Raks bent his head to Jace’s shoulder and laughed. The touch of him so sudden on Jace’s skin was like a jolt of electricity. “You’re not fishing for compliments at _all_ , are you?”

“Say it, Raks.” Jace didn’t try to hide the amusement from his voice, and he gasped softly when he was obliged and felt the drummer’s arms wrap around his waist.

“You’re the best.” Raks turned him in his arms until they were nose to nose, having to bend his head slightly to look down at the shorter man. “absolute chrome on the stage, the shiniest thing these eyes have ever seen. Make Nux look like a fool.” Jace couldn’t take his eyes off his lips as he spoke, and Raks noticed - they twitched up into a smirk. “satisfied?”

Raks’ fingers were trailing up and down his ribs, feather light. He reached up and gently pushed the cowl back from Raks’ face, revealing him to the flickering firelight. His eyes wandered over the defined planes of his face, admiring his full lips, his strong jaw. They lingered on the barely noticeable crook in the bridge of his nose and softened with affection. An unfortunate accident in a dimly lit stairwell. Raks was painfully handsome (though perhaps Jace’s opinion was bias) but he often wondered if he was ever self conscious about it. He smiled and ghosted his thumb over the scar. “No, I’m not.” he said.

“Never are.” rolling his eyes, Raks nipped at his nose playfully. “I have a few ideas on how to fix that, though.”

“Raks!” Jace gave in and laughed, squirming out of his arms. “this is important! Let me keep my dignity.”

“Your dignity?” Raks quirked his eyebrow again. _Goddammit!_

“Yes! At least let me _pretend_ that I have an ounce of control around you.” and at that Raks burst out laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his face so handsome, so achingly _perfect_ that Jace nearly said _fuck it_ and threw himself at him.

“Ok ok, shit. I’m sorry, love.” Raks held his hands up in a display of surrender, placating. Laughter remained in his voice but he stepped back and tried to hide his grin.

“You’ll watch me dance, then?”

“I always want to watch you dance.” he said, and this time the laughter was gone, replaced by something softer, deep. Something intense.

Jace swallowed. “Alright.” he rolled his head from side to side, and began.

When Jace had started dancing, he’d began strictly with the pole. It was where he felt most at home, which was no surprise considering his success as a Polecat in the Immortans armada. It was only natural and a surprise to no one that it would translate to the stage, where his long, lean body could twist and climb the pole with ease. He felt alive and whole as he gripped and spun and twirled, limbs bending and muscles holding him in impossible positions. This was the only way of dancing that he knew, until Raks Sharki came along.

Raks introduced Jace to an entirely new style of dance, one that captivated him from the very beginning and made him eager to learn more. Raks only told him that he’d learned it from history books, throwing words like _‘middle eastern’_ and _‘bedlah’_ around, and never spoke more about it. Watching Raks was like having a glimpse into the past, a show from the old days when everyone had one. Jace had never seen television, of course, but he imagined that watching TV was a lot like watching Raks, only better. Like magic.

Jace remembered the first time he had summoned up his courage to approach Raks to ask him to teach him. The very notion of ‘summoning courage’ for a social situation was alien to Jace, who flitted around Citadel like an out of control chatterbox. But there was something about Raks, something in his nature that called to him and intimidated him at the same time. Made him nervous, made him rub the back of his neck and look at the ground when he talked to him. He was so different from the others, so mysterious and calm. For starters, he had a brain between his ears, and a big one at that,

\- and a big one in his pants, too -

Jace faltered momentarily at the intrusive thought, hotness creeping up his neck. He cleared his throat and recovered from the stumble, glancing quickly at Raks to see if he’d noticed. He didn’t seem to.

And this was it, this was the heart of the matter. Jace never, ever felt embarrassment. He was never anything but sure of himself, comfortable in his own skin and confident about who he truly was. But Raks made all sorts of worrisome, paranoid thoughts creep into his mind. Was he too thin? Did his hat look stupid on him? What if Raks didn’t even _like_ feathers? _(and there were so many of them sewn into his belt, and his hat, and maybe they tickled Raks when they hugged, and it irritated his skin, or -- )_

“Jace.”

Blinking, Jace shook himself. Raks was standing close to him again, but this time the mirth was gone from his eyes and a heat had crept into them. He brought his large, calloused hands up and cupped Jace’s face, stilling him, fixing his gaze on him like a predator. 

“You’re too distracted.” he said, voice low. He stroked the pads of his thumbs down Jace’s cheeks and along the line of his jaw. His touch was a reprieve from the emptiness of his nights and he tried not to lean into it shamelessly like a pup. “let me help.”

Jace’s pulse was a snake and it was trapped in his throat, angry and biting. He felt sure that Raks could hear it in the stillness of the room, see it jumping wildly in his throat. He opened his mouth to protest, to make some sort of excuse, but Raks put a thumb to his lips and pressed. He shook his head once.

“Don’t fight me on this, love.” he nudged Jace’s nose with his own and ran his hands down the sides of his throat. They swept across his bare shoulders, traced the lines of his collar bone, the divots in his chest. Every inch of his skin responded as though he’d been licked with the flame of a welder’s torch.

Jace recovered fast and narrowed his eyes playfully. “I thought you liked it.” his eyes flickered from Raks’ lips and back up to his eyes. He bit his lip and smiled. A challenge.

Raks growled and suddenly his hands were on his hips, gripping hard, bunching the material of his hip scarf under his fingers. He ground himself against Jace, a long, torturous thrust of his pelvis. Jace sucked in a sharp breath as his back hit the pole and he grabbed it with one hand, steadied himself, palmed Raks chest with the other. The pole was shockingly cold against the heat of his back and it was exciting, delicious.

“See?” Jace gave up all pretenses of being coy and ground back against him, rolling his hips in that maddening way that drove war boys kamikrazy in their seats. “you do love it.”

“No,” Raks bent his head to Jace’s neck and parted his lips against his skin. His breath was hot and Jace could feel the very tip of his teeth, just barely touching. “I don’t love it. I need it.” and he bit down, eliciting a hiss from Jace. His hands were wandering now and the coins of their hip scarves tinkled and clinked against one another. It mingled with their erratic breathing and echoed in the vast room.

_Need it._

Jace pressed his cheek against Raks’ and closed his eyes. “Then take me.” he turned and nipped a mouthful of earlobe, tugged hard, and that was it.

Jace was glad for the pole as Raks pressed him hard against it, effectively trapping him. He brought his arms up behind his head and gripped it with both hands, his heart hammering. A wild and fierce joy coursed through him, colliding with his lust, swirling into hot chaos in his belly. Raks was a dog with a bone and he couldn’t take his eyes off him, couldn’t think of anything witty to say as he felt his harem pants being pushed roughly down his hips. He stepped out of them and kicked them to the side.

His cock was free, stretching forward swollen and leaking, and he felt his breath die in his throat at the way Raks looked at him - as though Jace was the only aqua cola left on earth. A man of too many words, Jace only managed a pathetic string of begging as he watched Raks’ knees touch the floor. He was gazing up at him now, a dangerous smirk on his face. His eyes no longer teal but the dark blue of the desert sky at night.

“Raks….please.” Jace dug his toes painfully into the floorboards.

“I should be making _you_ suck _me_ off.” Raks murmured, taking his time smoothing his hands up the inside of Jace’s legs. His tone was almost conversational, his movements achingly slow. Jace laughed breathlessly but it came out sounding more like a moan, a deeply needy one. He felt his cheeks flame.

“Then why don’t you?” he slumped against the pole. His body trembled like a live wire.

“Because,” and Raks finally, _finally_ closed his gorgeous mouth around Jace’s cock and sucked, a long hard pull. Jace bucked and gasped and his sweat slicked palms struggled to keep hold of the pole. It was nearly too intense. Raks let off with a wet sucking noise, sloppy, and gave the tip a gentle kiss. “you taste too fucking good.”

It was the most exquisite torture Jace could imagine, all these nipping kisses, Raks’ tongue laving hot stripes up the underside of his cock. He bent forward and released the pole, his hands cupping Raks’ head, smoothing over and around the back of his skull until he found the cord of dreadlocks and tangled his fingers in them.

Raks squeezed him at the base languidly, spit and precum slick on his fist. “Put your legs on my shoulders.” he rasped, his voice low and thick. It sent a shudder through Jace.

“W-what?”

Raks placed a gentle kiss on Jace’s abdomen. “Trust me.” he whispered against his skin.

_Always._

Jace’s thighs trembled as he braced himself, lifting them slowly onto Rak’s strong shoulders. He tensed his back against the pole, gripped through the sweat with his hands and concentrated on keeping his balance.

“Good. Now hold on.”

“What? Raks, wait…!”

Raks gathered his legs beneath him and stood, pushing Jace up the pole effortlessly. His strength was a raw thing and it was fast, and Jace had to flex the muscles in his thighs at the top to keep from tipping over. He needn’t have worried, though - Raks held him with his hands on his thighs, his thick fingers splayed over pale skin. He caught the look on Jace’s face; bewilderment, arousal, and just a hint of anger.

He chuckled and Jace took one hand off the pole to smack him on the arm.

“Smeg!” Jace gasped, squirming against the pole. He felt vulnerable in this position, as though all of him were on display for Raks, every inch. This was different from dancing for the war boys - this was Raks, and no opinion mattered but his. The heat crept up his neck again and Raks must have noticed, because the laughter vanished from his eyes and he nuzzled his nose into Jace’s thigh.

“Just relax,” he murmured, his words muffled as he forgot himself and began to kiss and lick. Jace’s chest heaved at the sight and his heart began to pound once more. “you’re beautiful.” and then he was swallowed into wet heat and _oh V8, shine, yes,_ he let his head fall back and his eyes slide closed.

Jace surrendered to Raks, to his hands and his tongue and his teeth. He gasped and whined and bucked pathetically, choking on his words as Raks gently slid a spit slicked finger inside him. He prodded and crooked his finger, stroking, moaning around his mouthful of cock as Jace neared his end. He knew just what to do, where to touch, and he exercised his knowledge with ruthlessness.

_By the stars, I’m gonna…_

Raks pumped his finger and growled, his mouth slippery and tight, cheeks hollowing. Jace’s thighs began to tremble violently and he cried out, dug his spine against the pole as his belly coiled white-hot, and released. He clung to Raks’ skull with one hand and the pole with the other, his fingers digging painful red divots behind his ears.

Raks hummed pleasantly and the vibration nearly undid him. He released him, licking his lips and gazing up at Jace, eyes heavy lidded and dark. “Steady love.” he said softly, and he slipped slowly out from under him, easing him back down with his hands.

Jace’s feet had hardly touched the floor before he was attacking Raks with renewed vigor, the aftershocks of his orgasm still travelling through his body - tingling and hot, little jolts that found their way out through his mouth in the form of gasps. He bit and licked at Raks. He was insatiable, relentless. Raks made a needy sound as Jace gripped him through the soft material of his harem pants. Jace could taste himself in the kiss and it thrilled him.

“Come on,” Jace was breathless, his hands trembling as they tugged at the belt. His tongue climbed Raks’ neck, finding his pulse point and sucking. He bit down in his eagerness and Raks growled and slammed his hips into Jace. “Turn around.” he ordered and the rasp of his voice sent life back into Jace’s softening cock.

He spun him, and the next thing Jace knew he was being spread open, and a white hot heat sent stars bursting behind his eyelids. He thanked V8 for the pole and the remaining strength in his legs as Raks knelt behind him and feasted hungrily, licking and kneading at his flesh, one hand snaking around to grip his cock and stroke it gently. His legs trembled and sweat pooled above his upper lip. “Raks, Raks,” he chanted his name.

Raks was a musician and a dancer, an artist, but right now in this moment he was a beast.

Jace heard the rustle of fabric as Raks stood, and then his voice was in his ear. “Close your eyes.” he growled, and Jace felt the softness of Raks’ cowl cover his face. He felt it being wound about his head and tightened in a knot at the base of his skull. He opened his eyes, blinking. Total blackness. The smell of Raks skin was everywhere now - his senses felt overloaded with the closeness of him and he opened his mouth, breath hot and moist against the cloth. For a moment there was nothing, just their breath.

“Bloody hell, Jace. You know what you do to me?”

Jace pushed back against him, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. It wasn’t a question but he wanted to hear the answers.

Raks wound the end of Jace’s long hair around his fist once, twice, and gripped it hard. He pulled until Jace’s head was bent back, nearly teetering on the edge of discomfort. A rustle of belts and fabric, a generous smearing of spit and then, _then,_ Raks was finally inside of him and nothing mattered anymore.

This wasn’t lovemaking, this was fucking. Raks wasn’t gentle and Jace had no complaints. He speared into him again and again, their flesh smacking wetly together. Jace’s scalp tingled where his hair was being tugged and he bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. _Yes, yes, this is what I do to you. What we do to each other._ This was their dance and Jace knew all the moves.

He didn’t complain when Raks made the desperate, choking sound that signalled he was close - his legs trembled and sweat dripped from his hairline and he wasn’t sure how he was even holding onto the pole anymore. With one final thrust Raks pulled out and spilled himself on Jace, thick ropes of milky liquid that dripped between his cheeks. His face fell forward between Jace’s shoulders and he whimpered into his skin, panting, his voice hoarse.

“Fangin’...” Raks tried, stopped. He swallowed and shook his head and Jace could feel his sweat trickling down his back.

Somehow they ended up on the floor together in an exhausted heap, their bodies a tangled mess of limbs. Raks pulled Jace against him and he lay his head on the bigger man's arm, his bicep a pillow and he knew he’d be sore in the morning, he knew his legs would betray him but he didn’t care. He didn’t give a shit.

All that mattered was this, right now.

Moments passed before Raks blew out a huge sigh, the sound the very epitome of contentment. Jace turned in his arms and smiled shyly at him and Raks smirked, handsome and cocky. Brat. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind Jace’s ear that had come undone from his braid and it made Jace’s chest feel tight.

“Did you like that?” Raks asked him after a moment, his chin resting on the top of Jace’s head.

“Hmmm?” Jace was trailing his fingers along the scarab beetle on Raks’ back.

“When I blindfolded you.” and Jace realized what it was that he heard in Raks’ voice. It was doubt. He slipped out from the circle of Raks’ arms and looked into his face, his eyes searching.

“Liked it?” and he laughed, his smile splitting his face and the sound must have put Raks at ease because he grinned back. “I loved it.” he leaned forward and kissed him. Their lust was in the past now and their tongues warred lazily, affectionately.

“Good.” Raks nuzzled his face into the crook of Jace’s shoulder. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. Jace didn’t want this to end, but the fires were dying out around them and the air was cooling - the sweat on his back had dried and he shivered against the chill at his back.

Raks sensed this and held him tighter. “We’d better get out of here, huh?” he groaned.

“Only if you promise to do it again next time.” Jace quipped.

Raks propped himself up on his elbows. “What?”

Jace rolled his eyes, feigning exasperation. “V8, Raks. You’re nearsighted, not _deaf.”_

If any war boys had been wandering outside of The Polecat that night, they would have seen a naked Drummer growling and tearing after an equally naked Polecat, his shrieks echoing into the night like hysterical laughter.


End file.
